Lazy Sunday
by Oneturtledove
Summary: Mulder makes caramel sauce and waxes mathematical, much to the enjoyment of a sleepy Scully.


Disclaimer: Raise your hand if you're tired of saying this.

Spoilers: None

A/N: To Julesy because she enjoys my old, badly written stories.

* * *

Scully's phone rang at nine o'clock on Sunday morning, and she looked down at it with a grimace. If it was Mulder with two plane tickets in his hot little hands, she was going to break his nose.

"Hello?"

"Hey Scully."

"Mulder, you do realize that we don't have to work today."

"Who's calling about work?"

"You are."

"No I'm not."

"Then why are you calling?"

"Because I haven't seen you in a week. I thought we could do lunch. Or breakfast."

"I'm eating breakfast already. And then I am going to mass with my mom, after which, she has talked me into shopping and lunch. And after I have gossiped with her for the appropriate amount of time, she will claim that she is tired and I will be free to come home, change into regular clothes and watch crappy movies on TV for the rest of the day. If you would like to join me in that, you're more than welcome. If you bring ice-cream."

"It would be my pleasure. What time are you going to be back from this little escapade?"

"About two o'clock."

"That sounds good. I'll see you later."

"Mulder, what's this all about?"

"You've been at Quantico all week and I haven't seen you."

"Okay."

"Is that alright?"

"It's fine, you just make me wonder sometimes."

"Okay. I'll see you later."

"Bye."

Scully stared at the phone for a long moment before getting up from the couch and putting her cereal bowl in the sink. Her partner was strange.

* * *

_I can't wait to get these shoes off _Scully thought to herself as she fumbled for her keys. They were the only ones that went with the outfit, but they gave her blisters. She opened the door and heard a rattling from the kitchen.

"Mulder?"

"In the kitchen."

"When did you get here?"

"About half an hour ago. I decided to make my homemade caramel sauce and since I do not own any sauce pans… here, try this."

He dipped the spoon in the sauce and held it up for her to taste.

"Good?"

"Yes. I'm impressed."

He grinned and pulled her into a hug.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"I've missed you this week."

"I've missed you too. A lot."

"Do you know how happy I am to hear that?"

"No."

"Well, it just means that you might get annoyed with me, but it won't last any longer than a week."

She chuckled and pulled out of his hug.

"I have to go change. I hate church clothes."

"They're work clothes with color."

"I never said I was ga-ga over work clothes either," she tossed over her shoulder as she headed for the bedroom.

"Hey, what kind of ice cream do you want?"

"Just vanilla with caramel sauce is fine."

"Do you want any nuts or whipped cream or anything else on it?"

"You really went all out, didn't you?"

"I always go all out for you."

She returned to the kitchen with a giggle.

"You know, you shrink about five inches when you take your heels off," he commented.

"Shut up."

He chuckled and handed her a bowl of ice cream before taking his off the counter.

"Now, what crappy movie can we watch on TV?"

"I'm not sure. Do you want to help me move the TV back out to the front room?"

"Where is it?"

"In my room. I had to clean the carpet and I never moved the TV back out here."

"It will take forever to move it. Our ice-cream will melt."

"Alright, but if you get ice-cream on my bed…"

"Got it."

He followed her into the bedroom and sat on the side of the bed that she didn't sleep on.

"Those are some bright socks, there Scully." Mulder remarked, nudging her foot with his own. "I don't think I have ever seen you in lime green before."

She smiled and adjusted the pillows behind her.

"Sometime maybe I will wear the hot pink ones."

He chuckled as she turned the TV on. They flipped through channels for a few minutes before he took the remote and settled on the beginning credits of a movie.

"_When Harry Met Sally_?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you sure that this is the movie we should watch together?"

"What's wrong with it? It's about two best friends. We're best friends."

"Mulder… everything in this movie goes against the established rules of our friendship."

"How's that?"

"You know how's that."

The twinkle in his eyes told her that she wasn't going to win the argument. Slightly uncomfortable, she settled back into the pillows and convinced herself that this movie had nothing to do with their relationship. She concentrated on not blushing or glancing in Mulder's direction.

"Scully? Are you more than slightly uncomfortable?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because he just said that men and women couldn't be friends and you didn't even snort in disagreement. What's up with that?"

"He's not totally wrong."

"Okay, so are you trying to tell me that you don't find me attractive, or that we can't be friends?"

"Neither. Most people can't make a friendship like that work. But we can. Joey and Monica can. Ross and Phoebe can. Three's Company too."

"I can't believe you just compared me to Phoebe."

"I never said that. I was just giving an example."

"Well…"

He chuckled and nudged her foot again.

"Scully, I care about your friendship more than your looks. And yes, you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. But I see your beauty inside too. And that is what I love about you. The packaging is just a bonus to make other guys jealous."

"Oh, so now you're using me?"

"Dana, quit."

She giggled and moved slightly closer to him.

"So what was that little move there?"

"I'm cold."

"You are not."

"Yes I am."

"You're not either. You want me to hug you. Well I'm not going to."

"Mulder, I think I'm going to come over and check your water supply again. You're acting like a freak."

"So from this we could deduce that you make me feel freaky."

She took a deep breath to stall for time. This game of banter was the oldest in their book, but for some reason, she just could not keep up.

"Now you're making leaps that are totally unfounded and not to mention, my wording does not back up this theory of yours."

"That's why it's called a leap, grasshopper."

"Well… fine."

"Fine? That's all I get from you?"

"I'm not very good at this game anymore. I'm too old."

"You wound me. I will have you remember that you are two years, four months and ten days younger than me, and if you're too old, then I am way too old."

"Two years, four months and ten days, huh?"

"Worst two years, four months and ten days of my life."

"I'm sure. Mulder, do you sit around and calculate dates and stuff all the time?"

"Yes. For example: we met on March 6th, 1992. This means that we have known each other for almost eight years. However, we didn't start working all the time together until September of 1993, which means that we knew each other for over 18 months before we actually had to put up with each other. Then if you calculate all the danger that we have been in since working together, it looks pretty grim. But if you divvy it all up into the time that we have known each other, it doesn't look so bad."

"Right."

"And then if you subtract your birthday of 223 from mine of 1013, you get 790. That translates into July 9th, 2000. If we had a kid, that is when it would be born. Of course, you're have to get pregnant like today, and have the baby prematurely, but you get the drift. But then I guess that we could take the date that we met and divide it by the sum of our ages at the time. But that would be a negative number. So we take the average of our ages at the time, which would be 29, and subtract that from the date of 36. The answer is five, which is the number of cars we have each had since we've known each other, the number of times you've used the big kahuna of cuss words in front of me, the number of times we've had to share hotel rooms. It also is the number of times I wanted to sell Queequeg to a Chinese restaurant. And the number in hundreds of dollars of how much I still owe you from that case last year. And the number of times Skinner has made us go to therapy. And the number of-"

Her hand clapped over his mouth before he could finish.

"Okay, Mulder. I get it. Five is a significant number for us. Big deal."

"I think it's kind of cool," he mumbled around her hand.

"Maybe it is, but I don't think it means anything."

Doesn't mean anything? Scully, everything means something."

"Everything?"

"Everything."

"Okay. So today I saw a black cat and a white cat. What does that mean?"

"It could mean a lot of things."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, I'm not fate. All I know is that it means something."

"You're so vague that you're useless."

"Hey!"

"What? You are."

"You're so mean that you're…horrible."

"That's what they say."

He sighed and shook his head and she reached over and used her finger to snatch some ice cream from his bowl.

"Mmm, burgled ice-cream."

"You are so weird, Scully."

She just shrugged and turned back to the TV.

Two hours later they were laying with their feet on her pillows, their chins resting on crossed arms. They had found a Looney Tunes marathon and were amusing themselves with the antics of Sylvester and Tweety. There was popcorn all over the bed, the result of a spat over who got to hold the remote and Scully was starting to get tired. He could tell by the way her words ran together, and how she kept sighing. He wondered if she was going to let herself fall asleep or if she would get up in a few minutes. He rolled onto his side and reached over to rub her shoulders.

"What are you doing?" she slurred, fighting the urge to let her eyelids fall.

"What do you think?"

"Loosening my inhibitions so I give you the remote?"

"A fortunate by-product."

She smiled.

"Seriously, Scully, you should take a nap."

"Won't be able to sleep tonight," she argued.

"Just a short nap. I'll wake you up in an hour."

"Okay."

He watched as her eyes locked and loaded into the sleep position and an inaudible sigh escaped her lips. She looked so different when she slept. Not just peaceful or childlike, but something else altogether. She was a different person. Content, secure. He kept his hand on her back, feeling her lungs fill and empty in perfect rhythm with his own. The last thing he thought before succumbing to sleep himself was how nice it was to spend a lazy Sunday napping with his partner. How they'd have to do it again. Maybe every week was a little much, but with the right amount of whining, he was sure he could pull it off.

The smile stayed on his face as sleep gave one final tug and he joined his partner in the solace of slumber.


End file.
